


The Crossover Job

by SilentSilhouette



Category: Leverage, White Collar
Genre: Case Fic, Gen, Heist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:27:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26039443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentSilhouette/pseuds/SilentSilhouette
Summary: Suddenly, the lights go out.Guests murmur to each other, unnerved. Some laugh nervously.Sophie squeezes Nate’s arm.Not according to plan.Nate scans the increasingly panicked crowd, but the darkness makes it hard to spot anyone acting suspicious. “There’s another player on the field.”The one where the Leverage team runs into Neal and Mozzie while doing a job.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 67
Collections: Crossworks 2020





	The Crossover Job

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GirlOfSaltAndStars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GirlOfSaltAndStars/gifts).



> Timelines:  
> White Collar: Before season 1.  
> Leverage: Somewhere vaguely in season 2, after Nate gets out of jail. 
> 
> It’s been a while since I’ve watched either show but both of them hold a special place in my heart so I will do my best to do them justice. Also, I am not a computer person and I know nothing about cybersecurity so all the computer talk is just me bullshitting, just go along with it please.

Camille Boucher cradles a glass of wine. With her razor-straight chin-length brown hair and violet pantsuit, she cuts a striking figure amongst the customers wearing more casual attire in John McRory’s Place Bar and Grill. Across from her, Nate Ford and Sophie Devereaux nurse their own drinks as they listen to the woman tell her story.

“My mother, her name was Claudette. She was a lawyer, but she had always had a passion for art, and she made it her life’s work to find and return stolen artwork to where it belongs. She was quite good at it too—made the news multiple times, called her _le Fléau des Collectionneurs Privés_ , the Bane of Private Collectors. She’d hunt down private collectors who owned stolen artwork and take them to court. She had a fearsome reputation in the art circle because she _always_ won her case.

“ _Maman_ was born in Ghent, Belgium, home of the Saint Bavo’s Cathedral, which houses one of the world’s most valuable treasures, the _Ghent Altarpiece_. It had always been her dream to recover the last stolen panel and complete the altarpiece. When she heard about _The Just Judges_ appearing in the United States… It was like a fire was lit under her. She was old, Mr. Ford, but she lost not one bit of her sharpness. She came all the way to the United States to take Mr. Kimathi to court, to bring _The Just Judges_ back to its home in Ghent.

“Mr. Kimathi knew of her reputation, of course. She had a very strong case against Mr. Kimathi. _Maman_ received both offers of money and death threats. They were all of them from anonymous sources, but we knew it was Mr. Kimathi. Because of this, _Maman_ felt it prudent to relocate. She went to Chicago, booked a hotel room under a fake name, and continued her research there.”

Camille takes a deep breath. “Three weeks ago, _Maman_ was shot in her bed. The police, they said it was suicide, but I knew my mother. She would not kill herself when her lifelong dream is so close to being fulfilled.

“Mr. Ford, I wish to hire you to bring Mr. Kimathi to justice and return _The Just Judges_ back to its home.”

*

The Leverage team stares at a colourless photograph of a painting depicting a group of people on horses on the screen. Nate stands in front of the group, pacing as he briefs them about their latest job.

“This,” Nate begins, “is _The Just Judges_ by van Eyck. It is part of a twenty-panel altarpiece called the _Ghent Altarpiece_ , widely considered to be a world treasure. In 1934, it was stolen from Saint Bavo’s Cathedral in Ghent, Belgium, along with _Saint John the Baptist_.” A photo of the two paintings pop up on the screen. “ _Saint John the Baptist_ was returned to the cathedral soon after, but _The Just Judges_ remained lost, and it eventually became one of the most famous missing artworks in the world.” The screen changes to depict various news articles.

Nate brings up a photo of a well-built man in his mid-forties. He has short black hair, tanned skin, and a smarmy smile that makes Eliot want to punch him in his stupid face. “Four months ago, it resurfaced here in Boston, in the private collection of one Antonin Kimathi, founder and CEO of SecuriTech. He is notoriously paranoid and does not allow just anyone to view his collection of artworks. And… well, I’m sure most of you have heard the rumours surrounding Kimathi.”

Everyone nods seriously. Nate lingers for a moment before bringing up another picture, this time of a severe-looking woman with neat white hair in a bun and thin lips covered in a vivid shade of purple lipstick.

“This is Claudette Boucher, Belgian lawyer, murdered in her hotel room in Chicago three weeks ago. Police ruled it as suicide, but her daughter, our client Camille Boucher, has convinced me that this is not the case. It is highly likely that she was assassinated by Kimathi, and our objective is to expose his crime and return _The Just Judges_ back to its rightful home in Belgium.

“Now, Kimathi is throwing a party to show off his recent acquisition one week from now. Very exclusive for obvious reasons. Rumours say he’s attempting to sell it. It’s going to take place in his Boston mansion, which is secured by his very own security company. Considering that the vault for his private collection is reputed to be nigh impenetrable—Parker, don’t even try—this is the best chance we have at getting within five feet of that painting.”

Nate turns to Alec Hardison. “Hardison, how’s the mansion security?”

Hardison stands up and takes Nate’s place as briefer. “Right. So I checked their security and, whoo, it’s a doozy. Just look at these babies: SecuriTech’s Amano Pro 7. 360° vision, no blind spots, HD, microphones so sharp it can pick up the sound of a pin dropping. They’re all over the mansion. I tried to get in, but the cybersecurity… Man, it’s tight.”

“Can you crack it, Hardison?”

Hardison sniffs. “Man, it’s _SecuriTech_. Normally you’d need an entire team of hackers to crack this one, but since I am a genius that’s not the problem. Here’s the thing: I think they’ve got a backup security system somewhere. I can’t get in without being noticed, but if I’m noticed then it shuts down and uses the backup system. If I hack into the backup system while the primary is down, then the backup shuts down and the primary system kicks in. And all that’s just what I got from a glance. Who knows what other nasties Kimathi has hidden? To gain control over it, I’d need to be directly connected to the security system inside the mansion, but to do _that_ we need to bypass the security system, which I can’t _do_ unless I have control of the security system. You understand me?”

Parker interjects, “SecuriTech’s tough. I’ve cracked them before, but I heard they had like a big massive upgrade four months ago. They’ll probably have some stuff that I haven’t seen yet, especially since this is the CEO’s house.”

Nate nods. “Fits with what we know about him. Luckily, he has a weak spot.” He points at the screen, now showing a balding middle-aged white man with thick-rimmed glasses. “Kimathi has an assistant to whom he entrusts everything, a Moritz Graf. _He_ is going to be our in. Now, let’s go steal an assistant.”

*

Some sweet talk, a bit of confusion, and a well-placed chihuahua later, Moritz Graf is on an economy-class flight to Denmark. Sophie, Hardison, and Parker have successfully _borrowed_ the identity of one of the guests and are currently staging a distraction for their mark so she can conveniently be out of town the day of the party. Without Graf, there is no one to oversee the usual background checks required for the hired staff. As a result, Nate and Elliot are able to con their way into Kimathi’s contracted caterers and are now subtly sabotaging the ballroom to their advantage. 

The day of the party, the Leverage team are all in their assigned roles: Sophie (under heavy makeup) as Beryl Smith, the rich bachelorette with a plastic surgery addiction; Nate as Beryl’s plus one; Eliot replacing a security guard whose grandmother is having an “emergency”; and Parker as a waitress. Hardison is outside, monitoring the comms and acting as their last ditch back up in case everything goes haywire.

Kimathi’s ballroom is, admittedly, impressive. It's a large space, encircled by eight Corinthian columns. A massive chandelier hangs on the ceiling, the lights around the room further emphasizing the beauty of the crystals. Round tables arranged around the dance floor showcase elaborately prepared finger foods and desserts. Several doors lead to manicured gardens where guests can mingle and suck up to each other. On the north side of the room is a stage, cordoned off with a barrier. It has a single white wall proudly displaying a long-lost masterpiece. _The Just Judges._

Sophie and Nate mingle with a few of the guests. They fake-laugh at a dirty joke told by the unbelievably dull CFO of a paper company. Parker passes by them holding a tray of hors d’oeuvres. Eliot stands near the stage, pretending to be scanning the guests for threats.

Nate checks his watch. 8:13 PM.

Suddenly, the lights go out.

Guests murmur to each other, unnerved. Some laugh nervously.

Sophie squeezes Nate’s arm. _Not according to plan._

Nate scans the increasingly panicked crowd, but the darkness makes it hard to spot anyone acting suspicious. “There’s another player on the field.”

_Time to adapt._

Out of the corner of his eyes, Nate sees Parker bolt for the painting.

“Guys, I think you have four seconds ‘til the lights come on,” Hardison yells in their comms.

Parker slides under the barriers.

_3…_

She grabs the panel.

Eliot strides towards her. “Nearest cache is under the cupcake table.”

_2…_

Parker pulls, and meets resistance. _Someone else is holding onto the painting._

_1…_

_Drat._

Parker lets go of _The Just Judges_ and vanishes back into the crowd. The panel hits the ground, the other thief having let go at the same time.

The lights flicker back on, and everyone gasps at the painting on the ground.

Kimathi shoves his way to the stage. _“Don’t let anyone leave the room!”_

But the Leverage team is gone.

*

Outside near where Lucille is parked, the Leverage team is met with the sight of Hardison tackling a man running away with a laptop. The man—short, balding, white button-up shirt, thick-rimmed square glasses—makes a valiant attempt at getting away but he doesn’t stand a chance against Hardison.

“Hey!”

Another man—tall, handsome, thick wavy hair, expensive tuxedo—comes out of nowhere and pulls the short man away from Hardison. “Okay, let’s just take it easy here…”

“Take it easy?” Hardison lunges at the short man again, but Eliot holds him back effortlessly. _“Take it easy?”_

“Hardison!” Nate steps forward between the two parties. He examines the two strangers with wary eyes. “You two…”

The short guy scans their group and freezes. “Parker!”

Parker frowns, somewhat recognizing him. “Mozzie...”

The taller man grins charmingly at Sophie. “Sophie.”

“Neal!” Sophie beams.

“Hardison,” Hardison deadpans.

Sophie ignores him. “We haven’t seen each other since, what, Paris?”

“The Cézanne.” Neal smiles fondly. He turns to Parker. “And _we_ haven’t seen each other since…”

“Taipei 101.” Parker pauses. “Fancy seeing you here, _Steve_. And with Mozzie in tow, too.”

Mozzie not-so-subtly hides behind Neal (?).

“And I hear you’re as crazy as ever, Parker.” Neal/Steve turns to Eliot.

The hitter merely nods at him. “Nick.”

Neal/Steve/Nick (???) waves at Eliot and returns his greetings.

Hardison holds his hands up. “Okay, does everyone here know these guys but me?”

“I don’t know them personally,” Nate says, “though I believe I’ve come across their work on several occasions.” He narrows his eyes at the taller stranger. “ _The Dead Christ with Angels_ is your forgery, isn’t it?”

Neal/Steve/Nick smiles innocently and shakes hands with the Leverage team leader. “Mr. Ford, I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve heard a lot about you. I love your alleged work. Congratulations on your liberation from supermax, by the way. It’s the talk of the town.”

Nate nods, then eyes Mozzie. “And I believe Mozzie here is better known in certain circles as the infamous Dentist of Detroit.”

Hardison looks at the unassuming Mozzie, who looks utterly terrified of Parker. “You’re kidding me.”

“And how did you know that?” Mozzie adds.

Nate shrugs. “Insurance.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

Hardison waves at Neal/Steve/Nick, who seems to be enjoying Hardison’s confusion. “Okay, but can someone tell me this guy’s actual name, please?”

“You can call me Neal,” Neal offers.

Sophie clears her throat. “Well, now that we’re all introduced…”

Tension descends on the group of thieves when they realize what everyone is there for. As one, they all look at the mansion. Somewhere in the mass of panicking guests and security guards is van Eyck’s _The Just Judges_ , undoubtedly being spirited away to Kimathi’s impenetrable vault right now, oblivious to the fact that it had been on the brink of being stolen. They hear the distinct sound of police sirens converging on the mansion.

Parker scowls. “We should probably run.”

*

It takes the combined charms of Sophie and Neal to convince Nate to let Neal and Mozzie crash at their place. Eliot vouches for Neal, while Parker grudgingly admits that Mozzie is harmless (at the moment). Once they arrive at the HQ, the Leverage team all sit down in the living room while Mozzie pulls Neal away from the group for a private conversation. Of course, in a room full of master thieves, _private_ really means _everyone is listening but is politely pretending not to_.

“Neal, we can’t stay here.” Eyes wide, Mozzie tilts his head towards Parker so hard it looks like he’s trying to break his own neck. “Parker is here! She’s a weirdo!”

Parker waves at them, all pretense of politeness gone. “Cauldron, meet saucepan.”

“ _It’s pot, meet kettle!_ ”

Parker rises from her seat. Mozzie squeaks and hides behind Neal.

“So!” Sophie claps her hands and smiles widely. “May I ask why you two crashed our job?”

“Honestly? We didn’t even know you were there.” Neal slides his hands into his pockets. “But when Mozzie recognized Parker… well, he kind of panicked and cut the power earlier than planned.” He sends a tight smile at the shorter man, who rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Didn’t want Parker to see you, because then she’d know I was nearby and…”

“Why,” Hardison interrupts, “are you so scared of her?”

“Yes.” Parker crosses her arms. “Why?”

Mozzie swallows nervously. “Ah… You don’t remember Pretoria? Three years ago?”

Parker thinks, then stills. “That was you.”

“No. Absolutely not. Why, what happened in Pretoria?”

“You—”

Neal clears his throat and steps between Parker and Mozzie. “That’s enough, Parker.”

Sophie shakes her head at Parker, who backs down and resorts to shooting dark looks at Mozzie. Mozzie looks like he wants to jump out of the window, Neal’s presence the only thing keeping him in the room.

Sophie sits Parker beside her and continues her earlier questioning. “So you two were going for _The Just Judges_ as well?”

Neal vibrates with excitement, ever so eager to discuss art. “Yes, of course! When I heard _The Just Judges_ was with Antonin Kimathi… Well, I’ve always wanted to see the original, completed _Ghent Altarpiece_ in all its glory.”

“… That’s it?” Parker says dubiously.

“The _Ghent Altarpiece_ is the first great panel painting of the Renaissance, and is arguably the most important piece of artwork in the world,” Neal says passionately. “I want to see it completed for the first time in almost a century.”

“And then sell it for a fortune,” Mozzie adds.

Neal nods. “Our plan is to return it to the cathedral, then after a few months, replace it with a forgery and sell the real thing on the market.”

“So we have the same goal.” Sort of. Nate is a bit iffy on the whole _stealing the painting again a few months after being returned_ part, but technically Leverage Consulting & Associates does not have responsibility over what happens after they return the painting to their client. If it ends up being stolen again and replaced by a forgery, well, Nate’s heard a lot about Neal Caffrey’s forging abilities. It will take a long time before people find out about the forgery. Maybe even never, if Neal resists the impulse to sign his work, as most world-class forgers tend to do.

Speaking of which... “You intend to replace it with a forgery? Does this mean you already have one ready to go?”

“Well, no,” Neal admits. “Before it resurfaced, the only reference materials I had were old photos from before it was stolen, not enough to create a convincing forgery. But I had a lot of time to study the painting during the party, so I think I can do it now. Why, what are you guys up to?”

“We have a client.” Sophie folds her hands on her lap. “She wants to bring Kimathi to justice for the murder of her mother, Claudette Boucher, and return _The Just Judges_ back to Ghent.

“Ah, Claudette Boucher.” Mozzie sighs. “Her reputation precedes her. Shame about what happened in Chicago. You’re saying Kimathi is behind it?”

“Not surprising.” Neal exchanges a look with Mozzie. “Kimathi is… well, you know the rumours.”

“Okay, so we’ve got us, and you, going for the same thing.” Hardison studies Neal and Mozzie with shrewd eyes. “And I get the feeling these two aren’t the type to back down. So who gets the painting? Or is this going to be a first-come, first-serve, may the best thief win kind of situation?”

Nate hums. “As I said, we have a common goal: to return _The Just Judges_ to it’s original home in Ghent. What happens after that is not our problem. Leverage Consulting is not responsible for the painting’s continued security.”

“We also need to bring Kimathi to justice for Boucher’s murder,” Eliot adds. 

“So, as far as I can tell, we’ve got no reason not to work together.”

“What?” Hardison’s eyes widen. “Us? Work with others?”

“Why not? It’s how we originally got together.”

Sophie giggles. “Oh! This is going to be fun! It’s been a while since we’ve worked together, Neal.”

“I thought you were going straight!” Neal laughs. “If this is your definition of straight, I would’ve contacted you sooner. There were a couple of jobs where we could’ve used a grifter of your skill.”

Mozzie elbows Neal and lowers his voice. “Need I remind you that Parker wants to kill me?”

Sophie prevents Parker from lunging at Mozzie. “As long as this partnership lasts, no one is going to be killing anyone.”

“Then may this partnership last forever,” Mozzie mutters.

Eliot turns to Nate. “So we’re really doing this?”

Nate looks at Sophie, who looks incredibly happy to be working with her old friend Neal.

… He can’t bear to disappoint her. “Yes.”

*

Eliot drags two chairs from the kitchen to the briefing room for Neal and Mozzie. Everyone else settles in their usual place.

“Bad news,” Nate steeples his fingers, “is that whatever plans we had before isn’t going to work now. Kimathi is on high alert and _The Just Judges_ is behind an impenetrable vault. The good news is, we now have two additional allies, both of whom are well-known experts in their fields. Considering these factors, how do we get to the painting?”

Silence falls on the group of thieves, each one of them trying to think of a way to fulfill their goals.

“The Tethered Dragon?” Eliot says eventually.

Nate shoots that down. “They know your face already, and none of us can do what you can do.”

“Palace of Pleasure?” Hardison tries.

Parker’s shoulders droop. “We don’t have enough explosives.”

Mozzie blanches. “… You mean you _have_ explosives?”

“You mean you _don’t_ have explosives?”

Sophie and Neal seem to come to an epiphany at the same time. “The Self-Serve!”

Everyone thinks about it for a moment.

Parker plays with her ponytail. “That might work.”

Hardison nods slowly. “Rumours do say Kimathi believes in ghosts.”

Eliot smiles a little. “It’s a bit unethical, but Kimathi apparently kills nice old ladies so we don’t care about that.”

“We’ll pull it off,” Sophie says confidently.

Nate claps his hands. “Great. Now, here’s what we’re gonna do. First, Neal is going to return those wallets he took to their owners.”

“Boo.” Neal throws the wallets at Nate and Hardison.

“Next, we’re going to steal Kimathi’s sanity.”

*

While Sophie is off prepping for her part, the rest of the crew (plus Neal and Mozzie) discuss how to drive Kimathi insane. The group are seated in various positions around the meeting room table, except for Nate. Nate, standing at the head, places his hands on the table. “Neal, how good are you at fighting?”

“I prefer to talk my way out of trouble.”

“He’s a wimp,” Eliot informs Nate, ignoring Neal’s indignant _hey!_ “I’ll take Hardison.”

“Probably for the best,” Parker says lazily. “I’ll take Neal with me. We’ve worked together before.”

Neal blinks. “Right. ‘Worked together.’”

“Well, we didn’t kill each other!” Parker says defensively.

Nate raises a hand. “I don’t know, and I don’t _want_ to know. Just do your jobs. Mozzie.” He turns to the man in question. “You’re good with computers?”

“Yes. I’m also good at evading The Man.”

“Do you have your own equipment?”

“I have multiple hideouts and none of them are open to you.”

“Computers, Mozzie.”

“Right. Yes, I do most of my work on my laptop.”

“Good. If you need anything else, you can borrow Hardison’s van.”

Hardison’s jaw drops. “I’m not letting a stranger inside Lucille!”

Eliot rubs his forehead. “Stop talking about the damn car like that.”

“Hardison.” Nate stares at Hardison, who sighs and nods reluctantly.

*

Two weeks later, the Leverage team and their new allies have successfully driven Kimathi to near insanity. Eliot and Hardison have been attacking his security guards for the past two weeks so that Kimathi has to keep finding new ones to replace them (which takes considerable effort, considering Kimathi’s paranoia and insistence on personally overseeing the extensive background checks). Parker and Neal are in charge of subtly inconveniencing his everyday life, making it seem like he’s cursed, all the while leaving hints and reminders—a purple lipstick here, a newspaper article there—about his murder of Claudette Boucher. As the icing on the cake, they have Sophie dressed up as the ghost of Claudette Boucher, strategically haunting locations where only Kimathi can see her.

His assistant, Moritz Graf, who’s been on tiptoes around Kimathi ever since he got tricked into getting on a flight to Denmark, has not been spared. He, too, is being stressed out. Nate, posing as someone from the company insuring Kimathi’s art collection, has been harassing him about the attempted theft two weeks ago, claiming that he needs to re-evaluate their security measures for insurance purposes.

Kimathi’s breaking point happens when the ghost of Claudette Boucher appears to him in the parking lot of his building. He and Graf are on their way to a business lunch. Graf is already on the passenger seat of the black Lexus, tapping away on his tablet, so he doesn’t see what Kimathi sees.

Kimathi, about to enter the driver’s seat, starts breathing heavily when sees Claudette, pale and bloody, on the car’s side mirror. She bares her teeth and holds up a panel. It’s slashed up and partly covered in bloodstains, but what is visible is still recognizable. _The Just Judges._

Kimathi screams and swears. He dives into his car and speeds away, Graf shrieking all the while.

Sophie lowers the panel. “They’re on their way. This is a marvellous forgery, Neal. A shame we had to ruin it.”

Neal’s laugh ring out from the comms.

Nate’s voice cut him off. “Neal, Eliot, get in position. Mozzie, you’re almost up. Parker, Hardison, call them.”

*

Kimathi’s car skids to a stop in front of his mansion, running over a bed of tulips in its wake. The Lexus tilts sideways precariously before crashing back to the ground.

Kimathi jumps out of the car and dashes inside, heading directly to his security room. Graf, having received no explanation from Kimathi in the car, follows after his boss, extremely confused and just a touch terrified. Kimathi is so scared for his art collection, he doesn’t even think about going through the usual thirty-minute procedures required to enter the vault. He overrides everything and disengages all security measures. The little lights denoting the status of the security cameras and microphones turn red. Once the last lock disengages and the vault door opens, he almost trips his way out the security room and sprints to the vault, his assistant still on his heels. Kimathi heaves the vault door open and lets out a great sigh of relief when he sees _The Just Judges_ , safe and sound in the place of honour right at the front of the vault.

Suddenly, a voice calls out from behind him. “Mr. Kimathi? This is the FBI!”

“FBI?” Kimathi and Graf whirls around and see Parker and Hardison in their FBI getup. They stalk up to Kimathi and flash their FBI badges. Parker holds a folder in her right hand.

“Mr. Kimathi, Mr. Graf. I’m Special Agent Hagen, FBI. This is Special Agent Thomas. Your door was open.”

Kimathi straightens and attempts to look calm. He dearly hopes these two are not art experts and does not recognize the famous piece of artwork behind him. “Oh… What seems to be the problem, agents?”

“Our Art Crimes division recently got a tip about you attempting to sell an art forgery. We tried calling you but neither you nor your assistant ever picked up.”

“What…?” Kimathi and Graf checked their phones. Indeed, both of them have several missed calls and voicemails.

(Inside Lucille, Mozzie snickers.)

“I… Wait, forgery?” Kimathi whirls around, intent on checking the other art pieces, but Hardison blocks his way. He grabs the CEO by the shoulders and leads him away from the vault, into one of the sitting rooms upstairs. Parker does the same with Graf. Kimathi and Graf are so stressed, they’re almost relieved at having to follow the orders of authority figures, the fact that all security measures have been disengaged slipping Kimathi’s mind.

With the front door and the vault door literally wide open, it’s a walk in the park for Eliot and Neal to enter the house and head for the vault, making sure to stick a little device inside the vault’s security system for Mozzie.

Parker and Hardison sit Kimathi and Graf on a couch and start their distraction.

Parker opens her folder. “We received the tip from a trusted source.” She tilts the folder slightly, allowing Kimathi to glimpse the picture of the woman who “sent” the report.

Kimathi jolts to his feet, eyes bulging out of their eye sockets. “The source is Boucher? _But I had her killed!_ ”

Parker almost snorts. _Well. That was easy._

Hardison is disappointed. He and Parker have an hour’s worth of material designed to get Kimathi to confess to murder, and they’re not going to be using any of it after all.

“Mozzie, did you get that?” Nate’s voice ask through their comms.

“Yep.” Mozzie’s voice drips with satisfaction.

Meanwhile, Kimathi and Graf seem to realize what was just said.

Hardison raises an eyebrow. “What was that?”

“I—I—That is—”

Parker looks up at the cameras in the room. “Those are some very nice cameras, Mr. Kimathi. SecuriTech’s Amano Pro 7, no blind spots, microphones so sharp it can pick up the sound of a pin dropping. I believe those very same microphones recorded your confession just then.”

Indeed, the cameras’ and microphones’ status lights in the room are blinking green.

“You—I misspoke, it has been a very stressful day…”

Graf rises as well, and he and Kimathi both start making their way to the door. Parker and Hardison follow.

“We’re done!” Eliot says into the comms.

Hardison suppresses a smile. “I think you’re gonna have a lot more stressful days in the future, Mr. Kimathi.”

Just then, an FBI van rolls up in front of the mansion, and out comes Agents Taggert and McSweeten. The two agents, seeing the skid marks on the driveway and the open door, run inside the mansion.

Kimathi sees the FBI van through the window and curses. He bolts out the sitting room and runs to the vault. Graf, Parker, and Hardison follow him.

Taggert and McSweeten are already there. McSweeten brightens at the sight of Parker. “Special Agent Hagen! Special Agent Thomas!”

Parker nods at them. “Thanks for coming over. As you can see, there is a situation. We’ll let you handle things from here.”

Hardison prods the frazzled Kimathi forward. “We just busted Mr. Kimathi here for the murder of Claudette Boucher in Chicago. His confession should be recorded on the security tapes.”

“Oh… Thanks!” Taggert and McSweeten happily arrest Kimathi.

“We also received an anonymous tip about him attempting to sell an art forgery for millions of dollars. You might want to check inside that vault. Their computers, too.”

(Inside the vault is an imperfect forgery of _The Just Judges,_ as well as an imperfect forgery of a certificate of authenticity, courtesy of Neal. There are also (fabricated) records of various forms to sell _The Just Judges_ on Kimathi’s computer, courtesy of Mozzie. For Leverage Consulting’s alternative revenue stream, Eliot and Neal liberate several art pieces that would later be fenced for $700,000.)

Parker turns to Graf, who looks as if he’s going to flee any second now. “You haven’t been arrested for anything yet. But there’s going to be a thorough investigation, and if we find that you’re involved in anything you shouldn’t be… Well, I have some advice for you—and this goes for you too, Mr. Kimathi: it looks good on paper if you start cooperating from the get-go.”

Kimathi and Graf are speechless. Two weeks of stress and fatigue have left them incapable of thinking any clever ways to worm themselves out of their situation.

Hardison coughs. “Anyway, we have another… thing… to do.” He starts walking away with Parker. “Agent Taggert, Agent McSweeten, we’ll leave everything to you now.”

“Oh… Okay! Thanks, Special Agent Hagen, Special Agent Thomas!”

Parker and Hardison leave the slightly confused FBI agents with Kimathi and Graf snapping out of their daze and practically falling over themselves to confess their crimes first.

*

With _The Just Judges_ safely on its way to Saint Bavo’s Cathedral (generously gifted by an anonymous donor), they are finally free to relax and celebrate another job well done. Nate gathers his team, plus Neal and Mozzie, at the bar and orders a round of drinks. The celebration lasts long into the night, but alas, all good things must come to an end.

“Well, this partnership has been fun, Mr. Ford,” Neal finishes his wine and stands up, “but I’m afraid it’s time for Mozzie and I to go.”

“Likewise. If you two ever want to go straight, hit us up. We can use your talents.”

Neal stares at Nate. “Straight? We just committed over two dozen crimes in the past two weeks and psychologically tortured two men into confessing their crimes.”

Nate shrugs. “Eh.”

Sophie sighs. “Oh, are you sure you can’t stay, Neal?”

“Afraid not, Sophie. Alex called us about a once in a lifetime job in Rio, we can’t really turn that down.”

“Okaythat’sgreatlet’sgoNealbye.” Mozzie jumps out of his seat and runs out of the bar. Neal follows him at a more sedentary pace, tipping his trilby goodbye and promising to stay in touch.

The group of thieves watch them go.

Parker gently sets down her drink. “So. The partnership is over right?”

“Parker, no.”


End file.
